The rain had stopped, but the world hadn't recovered. Everything sagged. Mud clung to boots with a slow, sucking schlurp. Broken rails jutted from the ground like bent ribs. Pipes coughed thin ribbons of steam that drifted sideways in the wind, stretching long and pale beneath a washed-out yellow sun.
Sho walked ahead. Not far. Eidola rested in his arms, quiet as ever, her bare feet faintly tapping against his leg with each step. He adjusted his grip more often than necessary.
Behind him, the others followed, boots squeaking, breaths still uneven from everything before.
"…so," Three began, voice lighter than the sky deserved, "when this is over…hypothetically…we go back, yes? Warm food. Less running. Fewer… catastrophes."
"That is not guaranteed," One replied.
"…nothing is ever guaranteed, but I am choosing optimism as a coping mechanism."
Four one added, "Mission completion does not ensure personal preservation."
A pause.
"…that sounded like a very elegant way of saying we might not survive," the Three said.
"Yes."
"…Well, I preferred when we didn't say it like that!"
They walked a few more steps. Wind dragged smoke across the path, thin and ghostlike.
"…what about after that," Two finally voiced. "Let's say we do survive. All of us."
No one answered immediately.
"…do we all… stay?"
That one hung.
Four spoke first, eyes on the ground. "Division is classified as unstable, based on the records."
"…you've said that," Two replied. "I'm asking what happens next."
A small pause.
"Look, we don't know yet. I've read about reintegration in the data," Four said. "Termination is also probable."
"…termination of what," Two, slower now.
"…excess instances."
Silence. Even the mud seemed quieter. Even the wind.
"…excess," One repeated softly.
"Yes."
"…so they keep one of us."
"…No, they keep the original subjects. Our case is different," Four looked at him. "We're clearly not clones."
The third Sho let out a short, hollow laugh. "…oh. oh that's… that's not great."
No one laughed with him. Two, ahead, didn't turn back. But his shoulders tightened. Just slightly.
"…they wouldn't do that," One said, trying. "The Legion… they're not like that."
The wind picked up. Two adjusted his hold on Eidola again. Tighter this time.
"…If Eidola is a clone," he said quietly. "She's not the original."
No one answered. Because that part felt too close to true. He walked a little faster. A little further ahead. And every few steps, he glanced back at her, at them.
The terrain narrowed into a broken stretch of road where old rail lines cut through the ground, half-buried and twisted. Visibility dropped. Fog and smoke tangled together into a dull grey curtain. Sound carried strangely, too close, then too far.
"Keep low," One whispered.
They slowed, steps careful now, and less clumsy…for once.
Ahead was a small outpost of the Null Concordat. Half-standing with iron scaffolds, a watch post, faint movement.
"…we go around," One said. "…quietly,"
The third Sho nodded seriously, and then his goggles caught the sun just for half of a split second. A bright, sharp flash. A perfect, traitorous glint.
A soldier caught a glance of the light from the outpost. "CONTACT!"
"RUN," One snapped.
And they did, leaving dusts and ashes behind them. Boots slamming mud, clankle-clonk and splatter-slap, breath tearing through their chests.
Shots cracked behind them.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
They darted into a tight corridor between rusted pipes and broken walls. Low beams forced them to duck, nearly knocking their heads, but Three clipped it anyway.
"OW!"
"FOCUS!"
"I AM FOCUSED… ON PAIN!"
Eidola bounced slightly as One carried her, her small pale hands gripping his coat.
"Left!" Two called.
"No, straight!"
"JUST MOVE!"
They burst out into a narrow yard and slammed to a halt.
An iron gate. Rusty and tall. It was locked. The bars were thick as trunks.
"… we have to climb," Two said immediately. "Hurry, One. I've got her."
Two grabbed Eidola from One's arms. He felt her weight for the first time, as he watched One climbing the gate. There was no hesitation in his voice this time.
Hands gripping cold iron, boots slipping slightly before catching. He hauled himself up, breath sharp.
Behind them were boot-thunders closing in.
One dropped to the other side, turning immediately "Come on!"
Four followed, efficient, quick, barely wasting motion and landed beside him.
Bullets started hissing around them, splitting the wind, before Three could climb the gate.
Two grabbed him back down to dodge the bullets, "Look out!"
Eidola covered her ears from the bullets hiss. Two looked behind, then back to One across the gate.
"Hurry!" One shouted.
Two looked at him, really looked, as the footsteps were approaching. He shook his head just once. One picked up quickly. "…there's no time."
Two didn't move to climb. He stepped back instead. "…go," he said. "We'll find a way around." For some reason there was no panic in his voice, nor there was hesitation.
A beat.
One froze. But the sound of boots broke it, and bullets started flying again.
They had seconds. Four grabbed his arm. "…we must move."
One didn't want to but he did. Because there was no time to undo a decision already made. They ran.
On the other side of the gate, Two turned, held Eidola tighter, and ran to the side, with Three.
One and Four ran towards a terrain opened into a wide, dead clearing and broken rails. A rusted signal tower leaning like it had given up. The air felt thinner here and exposed.
"Where is it?!" One gasped, turning in place, catching breath.
Behind them were shouts again.
"They're still coming!"
"They are not giving up," Four said, steady as ever.
"I can see that!"
Four pointed. "There."
A small marker, half-buried. Signal post.
"…this is the coordinate."
"…this is just a field!" One looked around, "we're going to die in a field!"
Before Four could answer, the sky roared, heavier than thunder. Windy whirr and churn and chuff.
One looked up to see a massive silhouette breaking through the low clouds. A gunship. Brass-plated hull gleaming dull gold under the pale sun.
Twin overhead rotors spun in exposed gearwork, teeth grinding in perfect, violent rhythm. Steam blasted from its sides in hot bursts with hisscrank, trailing like mechanical breath.
"They're here!" Four shouted with a smile.
The Aegis descended. Wind slammed into them. Dust, mud, loose debris whipped into the air. Side doors split open with a heavy clank.
Ropes dropped and figures slid down. Cogbound Legion soldiers, dark blue uniforms, lined with brass fittings, masks glinting faintly.
"MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"
Gunfire erupted. Sharp precise, dropping the closing enemies.
One staggered as a soldier grabbed his arm, pulling him forward.
"This way! We've got you covered!"
Four followed without resistance. More soldiers formed a line, firing outward, covering.
"UP! UP!!"
They were pushed into the gunship, metal floor vibrating beneath their feet. Bullets pinging the gunship thick walls.
"ALL CLEAR! FALL BACK!"
Ropes yanked and the doors slammed. The engine roared louder before they lifted. The ground dropped away. The noise settled into a constant, grinding hum.
One and Four was still catching breath, hearts beating as loud as the engine. The sudden silence inside the Aegis felt uneasy.
One noticed the soldiers were staring at them through the corner of his eyes, but he dared not to look. They were whispering to each other.
"The rumours were true…"
"There are two…"
One and Four both heard it but didn't respond. They just stared at the floor, pulling his breath to ease.
…
The Cogbound Legion headquarters loomed like a cathedral of iron and smoke. The gunship docked into a ribbed hangar throat. Iron jaws closing with a grinding clank and lock. Steam bled from vents along the walls in slow, tired sighs. Walkways crisscrossed overhead like a cage turned inside out, and everywhere, gears, pipes, brass-limbed machinery moving with quiet, relentless purpose.
One stepped off the Aegis with unsteady legs. The ground here didn't shift nor slip. This place felt like a whole new world compared to everywhere else.
Soldiers escorted them through corridors that hummed with low mechanical life. People moved quickly, efficiently, barely looking twice… except when they did.
And when they did, they stared. Two identical faces. Mud-streaked and exhausted, but alive
"…It's them," someone whispered.
"…So, it is true…"
"…impossible."
Four walked beside One, unaffected, as if the staring were just another detail to catalogue. They were brought into a chamber. Not grand, but heavy.
A long table of dark metal. Maps pinned across the walls, moving markers, shifting lines. A large window behind the desk showed the city beyond: smokestacks coughing pale fumes into a dull sky.
The General Arcturus Vale stood at the far end. Very still, with hands behind his back. He didn't look surprised. That was the first thing One noticed.
"…report," the General said.
No greeting, no pause. Just…that.
One stepped forward. For a second, nothing came out of his mouth. His throat felt tight and dry.
"…sir," he started, voice rough, "we reached the facility. There was…there was a chamber. Multiple chambers. Subjects."
The General didn't interrupt. That almost made it harder.
"One of them…the girl, she was active. Not restrained. Not… broken. Just… there."
He swallowed.
"…we were instructed to retrieve the asset. I attempted to comply. But the system…something went wrong. I triggered a mechanism and…"
He hesitated.
"…we somehow split."
A faint shift in the room. Not shock, but rather recognition. The air felt colder behind his neck.
The General's gaze flicked to Four across the room.
Four stood still, leaning against the wall, observing, listening, crossing his arms.
The General nodded once. "…continue."
One forced himself to keep going. "There were four of us. We attempted to extract. We were pursued. During escape, two of us broke away and… took the girl."
His hands tightened slightly at his sides.
Silence. The room didn't react. But something… tightened.
The General didn't look offended nor angry. But there was something about his face that One couldn't really read… or maybe his moustache just looks way more distracting than it was in the public posters.
"…the mission," the General said, voice level, "was retrieval of a classified bioweapon designated EIDOLON BLOOM."
"I know what the mission was…"
"You were assigned as transport."
"I was there," One snapped, stepping forward. "I saw her. She's not…she's not just…"
"A weapon," the General finished for him.
"…yes," One said. "That's what you're calling her. But she's not acting like one. She doesn't even understand what's happening…"
"That is irrelevant."
That word landed like a dropped weight.
One stared at him. "…irrelevant?"
"The function of the asset does not require its awareness."
"…she's not an object."
"She is not a civilian."
"That doesn't make her-!"
The General stepped forward. Not aggressively, but enough to cut him off.
"You lost the asset."
The room went quiet. Completely. Even the faint wind was gone.
"…we can still fix it." One's voice trembled.
"No."
"I know where they went, I…" One took a step forward.
"…I know him," he insisted. "He's not running randomly. He's thinking. He'll go somewhere he understands, somewhere structured…"
"And you are basing this on what."
"…because he's me."
That hung in the air uncomfortably. The General studied his face.
"No," the General repeated. "You will remain here. You will be evaluated. Your condition is unstable, your judgment compromised, and your mission… is unfinished."
The General's gaze hardened, just slightly.
"Go back to your farm… where you belong."
One stood there a moment longer. The silence was heavy. It settled right to his face. Breathing, thinking, failing to accept it.
"Do I make myself clear?" The General tilted his head slightly upwards.
One clenched his jaw, before he could respond, "yes, sir."
"Then you are dismissed."
One turned, and walked out, followed by Four, who heard everything.
…
The corridor outside felt a little warmer, but emptier. The hum of machinery was distant here, muted behind thick, hard walls. Footsteps echoed sharper, louder, like the place wanted to remind you that you were small inside it.
One didn't stop walking. Didn't slow.
Four followed at a measured pace, hands behind his back, expression unchanged.
They passed workers. Soldiers. None of them spoke. But they all looked. That same look.
Suddenly, One turned to Four, stopping him. "…I'm going back,"
Four didn't respond immediately. "…what?" he said.
One let out a short breath. "I'm going to finding them. I'm bringing her back, no matter what."
A pause.
"…you heard what the General said," he replied after a moment. "We're not meant for this."
One let out a quiet breath through his nose. "…yeah."
He took a step closer to him.
"…I've done that before," he added. "Stayed where I was told. Didn't think too much about it. Just… kept my head down."
He rubbed his hands together, like he was trying to get dirt off that wasn't there.
"…this doesn't feel like one of those times."
Four glanced at him. "…why."
One slowed a little. "…because I know what he's doing, I saw it in his eyes."
"…Who?"
He gave a tired half-smile, "…Two."
A pause.
"…he's not thinking clearly," One said. "Or maybe he is, just… not the way he should be."
He scratched the back of his neck.
"…you ever get that feeling where you think you're doing the right thing, but something in you keeps saying it's… off?"
"…yes?"
"…that's him."
They turned a corner. The corridor opened slightly, light spilling in from a high window. Dust floating in it, slow and quiet.
"…he's scared," One continued. "I noticed it from the start."
He gestured vaguely at the walls.
"…and maybe he's not completely wrong to worry. I don't know. I barely understand any of this."
He let out a small, breathy laugh. "…yesterday I was selling potatoes."
That one just hung there. Stupid but true.
"…now I'm arguing with a general and trying to keep track of how many of me there are."
Four looked at him.
One kept going.
"…but even if he's scared, that doesn't mean he gets to decide everything. Doesn't mean he gets to just… take her and run."
A pause.
"…or leave the rest of us behind."
His voice dipped a little on that last part. He didn't look at Four when he said it.
"…he's still us," he added, quieter now. "That's the worst part. I know how he's thinking because I've thought like that before."
Four tilted his head slightly. "…and you believe you are different."
One shook his head. "…no. not different."
He stopped walking, and looked down at his hands again. "…just… choosing something else."
A beat.
"…maybe that's all any of us are doing."
The hum of the place filled the silence again. Distant footsteps somewhere behind them. A door shutting. Life in the building going on like nothing had changed.
"…it is risky," Four said.
"…I know."
"…it may fail."
One gave a small shrug. "…most things do, the first time."
That almost sounded like something he'd say at a market stall, half-joking to a customer. It didn't feel like a joke now. He looked up, at the corridor ahead, at the exit somewhere beyond it.
"…but I can't just stand there and wait," he said. "Not when I know I can fix this."
A longer pause.
"…I'm not just going back for her."
Four didn't interrupt.
"…I'm going back for him too." One exhaled slowly. "…whether he wants that or not."
Four nodded slightly, finally agreeing.
"Look, I'm not asking for you to come with me," One tapped his shoulder.
"No," Four shook his head once at him. "…but you will require assistance."
One glanced at him. "…that your way of saying you're helping me out?"
"…I will remain here," he said. "This location has access to communication systems, surveillance grids, and signal routing."
"…meaning?"
"…meaning I can see more than you can."
One tilted his head. "…and you'll tell me what I'm about to walk into."
"Yes."
"…that does sound useful."
Then Four added, almost as an afterthought. "…do you think they have any more of those fancy bracelets." A faint, mischievous smirk cracked under his cheeks.
One blinked. "…you're planning to sit here and talk in my ear while I run into trouble, aren't you."
"Yes."
"…that feels slightly unfair."
"It is efficient."
One rubbed the back of his neck, thinking it through. "…you're serious."
"Yes."
"…you're not going to try and stop me."
"No."
That settled something. Not fully but enough. Enough for One to nod slowly. "…alright."
He glanced back down the corridor, toward where the General's room was. Then forward again.
"…if I don't come back…"
"You will," Four said.
"…that's not what I was saying."
"I know you." Four really looked at him. "You're One for a reason."
A beat. One gave a faint, tired smile. "…still."
He straightened a little, like he was about to head out into a normal day.
"…get me one of those bracelets, then," he said. "If I'm doing something stupid, I'd rather not do it alone."
"…When have we ever not." That made both of them chuckled.
"…and Four?"
"Yes?"
One hesitated, just for a second.
"…don't let them write this off." He blinked, "…her. him. us."
A quiet beat.
"…I'll do what I can."
That was enough.
One nodded once, then turned and walked. Not rushed or chased. Just a tired man heading somewhere he knew he shouldn't be.
Behind him, Four remained still, already thinking, already watching, already preparing.